


So, Dean Cusses A Lot When He's Giving Birth

by IAmSorry__sendmeaprompt



Series: How The Winchesters Got In Touch With Their Feminine Sides [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Childbirth, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is So Done, Fluff, Hands Go Strange Places, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Painkillers, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Parent Dean Winchester, Sam worries, Worried Castiel (Supernatural), Worried Sam Winchester, difficult birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmSorry__sendmeaprompt/pseuds/IAmSorry__sendmeaprompt
Summary: Timestamp to How The Winchesters Got In Touch With Their Feminine Sides: Dean has his baby, Jack, and finally - *finally* gets his dick back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: How The Winchesters Got In Touch With Their Feminine Sides [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113419
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	So, Dean Cusses A Lot When He's Giving Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TKDGirl2016](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKDGirl2016/gifts).



“You absolute  _ fucker _ ,” Dean gritted out through his teeth, and the nurse who was bobbing around with her head between his legs chuckled.

“Yes,” Cas agreed, “That is how you got in this position.”

“Not the time, Cas,” Dean growled as he squeezed his angel’s hand so hard he felt bones shifting. “Ah!”

“All right, ma’am,” the nurse said, poking him in places he really didn’t want to be poked in. “You’re fully dilated, everything is going well, and I’m going to go get the doctor.”

“Owww,” Dean agreed, then convulsed as a cramp ripped through him. “Fucking- sonofa-mother-fucking-cunt!” he grunted, clenching Cas’ hand tighter and hunching in on himself with each word.

Cas, trying (and failing) to be helpful, petted Dean’s hair and reminded him that at least he had an epidural.

“You try shoving a seven pound kid out your twat and get back to me,” Dean glared at him, flushed and sweaty. “Ouch!”

Castiel decided he should probably be quiet.

***

Sam sat in the hospital waiting room, fussing over whether Dean and Castiel’s new house - the deed to which was in the name of Dean and Castiel Styx and which had been procured by Charlie - was really as baby-proofed as he thought it probably was.

He was making a list of everything a newborn baby could possibly need that they didn’t already have in abundance thanks to Charlie’s magic limitless credit card (The fewer questions asked the better) and Dean’s mother henning instincts, which had kicked in full force.

Books? They had plenty of books. There were cardboard books and audiobooks and popup books and waterproof books for reading in the bath.

Clothes? They had a multitude of baby clothes. Apparently Jody’s wife, Donna, liked to knit and had sent them enough clothes to cover an army of babies. Plus they had all the things Dean and Cas had bought.

Food? They had stocked up on formula, not knowing when exactly Dean was going to turn female again and knowing that the baby would need milk whether Dean was producing it or not, and Jesus Christ that was a strange thought.

Sam was tapping his pen against his mouth, debating whether he should call Eileen and have her talk him down from the panic he knew he was working himself into, when Dean’s nurse bustled into the room.

“Is everything okay?” he asked her immediately, half rising from his chair.

She made placating hand motions, getting him to sit back down and calm himself a little before she answered. “Everything is going just fine. It’s just how it should be, and in fact it’s nearly time for the doctor to come in.”

From behind the door she’d come through echoed a very distinct voice cursing up a storm, and Sam relaxed with a chuckle. “Yeah, sounds like it’s going well.”

***

Three hours later, Dean wasn’t cursing much anymore. He lay limply on the bed, legs splayed open as doctors and nurses moved efficiently around him. He was tapped out, exhausted. Cas worriedly stroked his hair, smoothed his forehead, held his hand, tried to talk to him. Dean didn’t respond.

He was exhausted, he was in pain, he was drugged up, and the goddamn kid was stuck sideways inside of him.

“A transverse lie,” the doctor had told him soothingly. “It’ll all be okay, we’ll take care of you.”

That had been two hours ago.

Someone did something down there between his legs that sent a sharp stab of pain shooting through the dull haze of throbbing ache and medication that was dulling his mind, and he let out a little whimper of protest.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Cas murmured, leaning closer and stroking Dean’s arm. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise, gonna take care of you.”

“We’re going to apply pressure to your abdomen, to see if that will make the baby turn,” the nurse told him. He moaned quietly. “I declare,” she continued, “I have never seen a baby turn like that after labor has begun. You’ve got a feisty one here.”

Then the pressure on his abdomen started and he discovered that he could make a high pitched, pained keening noise without ever actually opening his mouth, because that took too much energy.

Sweat matted his hair to his forehead and tears blurred his eyes as he tried to focus on the outline of Cas sitting by his bed, holding his hand, offering s strong, steady refuge.

***

Sam was pacing like a caged wolf in the waiting room, having been apprised of his brother’s change in condition. He could only guess that the unexpected shifting of the baby had something to do with it’s angelic heritage, and he had no idea how to fix it.

“I can hear him,” he texted Eileen. “The hospital isn’t exactly busy this time of night, and I know it’s him keening in there.”

“Sam, honey,” she responded, “Trust the doctors. They’ll take good care of him.”

The nurse hurried out, brow creased in worry, and rushed through the waiting room and down the hall, returning with another doctor in tow.

Sam’s heart rate increased.

***

Dean had gotten his second wind, and was extraordinarily pissed off. “Get this thing the fuck out of me already,” he panted as the medical professionals did their level best to do just that. 

He continued in that vein for a while, then “Hold the fuck up, why is there a  _ fucking hand _ going inside of me?”

Beside him, Cas made a murmur of concern.

“We’re trying to turn the baby,” the doctor responded. She was a new one, he was pretty sure they’d just brought her in. Probably because she had small hands. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll go for an emergency C-section.”

Dean’s head thumped back against the pillow and he braced himself as more hands poked around in more places they had no right to be, and then something inside him  _ twisted _ , and then there was a rush of pressure that made him bite back a scream, and then the pressure was suddenly, unexpectedly gone.

And then there was a tiny baby boy being laid on his chest. 

“Jack,” he said in awe. “Cas, we did it.”

Then he passed out.

***

After Dean had been moved to a recovery room and both Sam and Cas had had their chance to hold and coo at Baby Jack, the immediate removal of Dean from the hospital was discussed.

“We’ve got to get you out of here before you start glowing and grow a dick again,” Sam reasoned.

Dean, still woozy, slurred a bunch of nonsense words into a sentence and called it a day, then yelped when Baby Jack’s mouth sealed around one of his nipples.

“All right,” Sam told Cas. “I’m gonna go find a wheelchair and we can load up happy mommy there, and you can carry the baby. Okay?” 

Cas nodded in agreement, and not a moment too soon, because as soon as they got Dean settled in the backseat of the Impala, ready to take the happy new family back to their new home, Dean started to glow.

Then he started to thrash.

Baby Jack woke up and started crying, Cas frantically tried to soothe him, and Sam peeled out of the parking lot like the Devil himself was after them before anyone could notice what was going on.

Dean crashed down onto the bench seat in the back of the Impala, dressed in a paper hospital gown that was about six sizes too small, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Guys, look! I got my dick back!”

“Put that away, Dean,” Sam said without taking his eyes off the road. “There’s a baby present.”


End file.
